


Blame Harold

by littleboycalico



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Makeup Sex, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboycalico/pseuds/littleboycalico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Zach get into an argument and make-up sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame Harold

Chris is torn between wanting to slap or kiss the patronizing expression off Zach’s face. He narrows his eyes and his tongue involuntarily darts out the corner of his mouth as he crosses his arms.

“Mercury poisoning? You can’t be serious.”

Mimicking his stance, Zach crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow in challenge. “I’m very specific about what I feed my pets,” Zach says with a shrug.

“Oh my god. It’s the same tuna that _we_ eat!” Chris gestures between them. “How come you’re not concerned about _us_ \--”

“Harold’s one fifteenth our size!” Zach interrupts.

“It was, like, a teaspoon of tuna from a can! It was a treat! He was acting all cute and purring at me!”

“Don’t blame Harold! Your ‘treat’ spoiled him and he went on a hunger strike.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “He wouldn’t eat his regular organic cat food for a day. I’d hardly call that a hunger strike. I’m sorry he missed a meal, but it’s not anything to be upset over.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds.

“I would prefer if there were no interruptions to their daily routines. It stresses them out,” Zach says.

With a shake of his head, Chris laughs at the implication that he had caused Zach’s pets stress. He points a finger at Zach and steps forward until he’s crowding his boyfriend’s space.

“Fuck you,” Chris chuckles. “Because you being away didn’t stress them out? Noah slept by the door the whole first week, waiting for you to come home and Harold would hover around my head at night, meowing for you.” Chris pokes him in the chest for emphasis, hard enough that Zach sways backward slightly and averts his gaze. “I’ve been the one taking care of them for the past year. Noah brings his leash to me when he needs to go out. Harold curls up and sleeps in my crotch at night. So fuck you, they’re just as much my pets as yours.”

He thinks Zach is about to back down, that he’ll crack a smile and kiss Chris, nuzzle his face in his neck and they’ll mumble apologies, Zach will complain about him not shaving that morning and he’ll tease Zach about his patchouli scented deodorant, but it doesn’t happen. There’s a stubbornness in Zach’s shoulders, a frigidness in his brown eyes when he finally looks up at Chris. He feels a small tremor of worry before he tell himself, no, he’s right on this one. Zach is being ridiculous.

“I just wish you’d be more respectful of what I want for the things that go on in my own home.” Zach’s voice is low and condescending. “Like with the compost station in the back. I know you barely used it when I was away. And--”

Chris licks his lip again and holds his hands up. “No, stop.” He shakes his head and steps back, tearing his eyes away from Zach. “This isn’t about Harold. This is about you being stupid.”

Zach glares at him and Chris looks back up at him. “You know, it’s too bad, Zach. It’s too fucking bad that this whole time I thought we were in a relationship, and I was caring for your pets and paying your damn utility bills and sleeping here, treating it like my own home, cause that’s what you do for someone you love.” He spits out the last word and his face feels like it’s on fire. “But I guess you just needed a convenient house sitter to follow every one of your instructions.”

Grabbing his phone and keys off the kitchen counter, Chris turns to leave. Noah’s head perks up as Chris walks by and he gives the dog a quick scratch on the head. Harold stands up from where he was resting by the window and stretches before jumping off his perch to trill at Chris’ feet.

“See you guys,” he says softly, rubbing underneath Harold’s jaw.

Chris places his hand on the doorknob and glances back at Zach, standing awkwardly in the middle of his kitchen. He says nothing as he opens the door, walks through, and lets it slam behind him.

 

 

The television is on mute as Chris is slumped on his couch, feet propped on the coffee table, strumming lazily on his guitar. He pauses when hears someone fumbling with keys at his door. His fingertips glide along the frets and he continues playing as if his heart hasn’t started beating just a little bit faster.

The door opens and the familiar, steady sound of Zach’s footsteps get louder before they stop in front of Chris. He plays three more chords and lets his eyes roam over Zach, his tight jeans, black puffy vest, and a striped shirt whose long sleeves he’s fidgeting with nervously in his hands.

Zach clears his throat and crosses his arms defensively. “Hello,” he says quietly.

“Hi, Zach.”

“How have you been?” Zach asks after a moment.

“It’s only been two days. Not much has changed in my life.”

“So you’re still mad at me.”

Chris sighs and carefully places his guitar on this stand next to the couch. He rests his elbows on his knees and rubs his eyes with heel of his hands before standing up and taking a few steps.

“You want me to go.”

“I want you to stop being a jackass,” Chris says impatiently, turning to face Zach. “I don’t ask for much, Zach. But you made me feel like shit the other day.”

“I know. I’m... I’m terrible at apologies. You know that.”

Chris tips head to the side. “That didn’t sound like ‘I’m sorry’ there.”

“I’m sorry. Okay?”

“That didn’t sound convincing. Say it like you meant it.”

“Chris, I’m sorry.” Zach uncrosses his arms and holds his hand out to Chris. “I’m sorry I was an ass about Harold and the tuna. I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m sorry I don’t appreciate how you take care of Noah and Harold, and me, too.”

Chris sees him struggle for a moment before he continues.

“You take care of me. All the time.” Zach’s voice suddenly cracks and Chris feels something in his chest turn to liquid as Zach’s hands gesture wildly and the confessions keep pouring out of him. “You do my laundry, you do my dishes, you vacuumed the other day, and it’s stuff I know you hate doing, and you’re just as tired as I am at the end of the day, but you do it anyway cause you know that I hate doing it, too. So I don’t care if you gave Harold tuna from a can or if you’re afraid of the worms in the composting bin or if--”

“Jesus, Zach. Stop,” Chris says softly.

A look of stunned horror passes over Zach’s features. “I... okay,” he concedes and retreats further into his striped shirt.

“Fuck. Zach, I swear, if you’re still wearing clothes in ten seconds...”

In the time it takes for him to blink, Zach’s hand had already curled around his neck, pulling them together. They crash into each other, rather painfully, as their noses and foreheads collide and Zach accidentally bangs his knee against Chris’. Chris gasps when Zach licks into his mouth, the tip of his tongue tracing up the tiny gap between his two bottom teeth.

They stumble over each other’s feet and nearly trip as they get to the bedroom, shedding clothing along the way. Chris is about to climb onto the bed, but Zach spins him around and drops to his knees.

Looking at up Chris from under his lashes, Zach licks up Chris’ shaft and rolls his balls in his hand. He does that thing where he places his lips right around the head of Chris’s cock and just sucks while his tongue flicks at that spot right below the ridge. Chris’ knees buckle and Zach holds him up by the waist, propping him against the bed. Blinking up at Chris with wide, pleading eyes, he squeezes Chris’ side before swallowing him down, as if asking for forgiveness.

With a handful of Zach’s hair, Chris fights the urge to shove himself into Zach’s mouth and then pulls Zach to his feet. Zach falls backward onto the bed, his head landing between the two pillows as Chris sits next to him and opens the top drawer of the nightstand.

“I missed you.”

Chris smiles. “It was only two days. We’ve been apart a lot longer than that.” The lube is fisted in his hand as he kneels next to Zach.

“You know what I mean.”

Zach’s hand is warm as it slides up Chris’ arms and down his back. He slaps Chris’ ass sharply. “I missed this,” he says and grabs a handful for emphasis. He lightly scratches and pinches the skin at Chris’ waist, lower back, and thighs. “I missed this, this layer of delicious baby fat you have everywhere.”

Chris frowns. “It’s not baby fat,” he mutters as he tries to move from Zach’s reach and settles himself between his legs. Zach sits up to keep massaging the backs of Chris’ thighs.

“Whatever it is, I love it. I love that I can sink my teeth and my nails into it.”

“You’re just jealous cause you don’t have thighs.”

“You’re absolutely righ-- oh fuck,” Zach gasps and falls back again as Chris presses the tip of his right index finger into Zach. Chris runs his other hand over Zach’s stomach, playing with the dark hair on his abdomen, before he rubs his palm over the erection that’s curving up from the thicker and denser thatch of hair. Giving it gentle squeeze, Chris grins as Zach whimpers and arches his back.

Zach’s moans get louder as Chris slowly works him open, adding another finger and teases the small bump inside, while the thumb of his left hand circles around the slit and spreads the drops of precome around the head of Zach’s cock.

Zach spreads his legs wider and Chris bends his head to breathe on the hard length. He lets the tip rest on his tongue for a moment before wrapping his lips around it as he inserts a third finger. Chris makes a muffled noise of surprise and his fingers slip out of Zach when his hips fly off the bed for a moment, thrusting his cock further into Chris’ mouth.

“Chris _sss_ ,” he hisses.

Chris pulls off Zach and tries to ignore the impatient whines coming from the head of the bed until Zach clenches around his fingers.

“Fuck fuck _fuck_ ,” Chris gasps.

Zach looks down at him, his eyes dark and hazy with lust, and tightens his muscles again. “Just think of how that’ll feel around your cock.”

Carefully, Chris removes his fingers and wipes the excess lube on the bedsheet. He looms over Zach, placing his hands on either side of his head.

“What do you want?” he nearly growls as he ducks his head to kiss and bite at the juncture of Zach’s neck and shoulder.

A needy moan and incomprehensible consonants escape from Zach’s mouth. He feels Zach’s hands kneading the back of his thighs. Chris shifts his hips forward and rubs his erection against Zach’s balls. He looks down and watches as the moisture that’s pooled at his slit in anticipation leaves a wet mark on the underside of Zach’s cock and balls. He continues to grind their erections together and bends his head to lap at a nipple.

“Like this?”

Zach squeezes his ass hard. “You fucking tease.”

“Answer the question. What do you want?” he asks in a low voice in Zach’s ear.

“God, _please_. Fuck me, Chris. I want you inside me.”

He loves how he can reduce Zach to this, to begging for him. Pushing back onto his knees, Chris takes himself into his hand and rubs the tip of his erection against Zach’s hole.

“Here? Like this?”

“Fucking do it! Right now!”

“Okay, okay. Jesus.”

He presses the thick head of his cock inside Zach and they moan simultaneously. Inch by inch, he pushes in until he’s swallowed by Zach’s tight heat and his balls are right up against Zach’s bony little ass.

“Fucking hell, you feel amazing,” he says, rocking his hips and smoothing his hands up and down Zach’s skinny thighs on either side of him.

He pulls out a couple inches before canting his hips forward. Within a few seconds, his pace quickens and he’s bent over Zach, propped up by his right arm next to Zach’s waist while holding Zach’s leg in the air. All he hears is the creak of the mattress and Zach’s screams. Chris growls at the sight of Zach with his arms are above him, braced against the headboard as his body shifts closer to it with each snap of Chris’ hips.

Soon, Chris is panting with his efforts and his arm begins to shake. He lets go of Zach’s leg and lowers himself over Zach. He rolls Zach’s hips up and places his elbows and forearms along Zach’s. Zach arches his back and Chris winds his arms under him. Chris turns his head and places his ear against Zach’s sternum and listens to the thrumming heartbeat as he holds him and shallowly thrusts into him.

He hears Zach babbling something and it takes a moment for him to comprehend that Zach is saying, “Harder, Chris.”

Pushing himself up to his knees, Chris takes Zach’s hips and is about to plunge into him hard when Zach kicks a leg up and over his head. Chris blinks in momentary confusion as Zach flips onto his stomach and positions himself on his hands and knees in front of him. He glances back over his shoulder at Chris and wiggles his ass.

With a nod, Chris licks his lips and lines himself up again and, this time, Zach howls when Chris buries his cock in him in one quick motion. He grips Zach’s waist and starts to fuck him, hard and fast, while muttering obscenities when he feels Zach pushing back against him.

“Love... your... cock,” Zach stutters, the words being pushed out of his diaphragm with each slap of skin. “Love... when... you fuck me... like this.”

It does exactly what Zach intends for it do: it makes Chris drive his cock into him even harder, grunting with effort. Zach wails and his arms collapse with the force. His face is half-buried in a pillow and he continues to rock back against Chris, his hands fisted in the sheets. Zach’s moans of encouragement are punctuated by the squeaking of the bed and the insistent banging of the headboard against the wall. Everything seems to grow in volume as Chris’ hips are wrenching cry after cry out of Zach.

Chris runs his hands down Zach’s back and is considering if he wants to lick at the sheen of sweat along Zach’s spine or bite at his shoulder when there’s a thunderous _crack_.

He hears Zach surprised gasp and feels himself falling sideways, Zach’s arm slapping him in the face on the way down. It’s just a couple seconds, but it’s one big blur, and by the time he reorients himself, he’s sprawled on his back on the cold hardwood floor of his bedroom with Zach on top of him, their chests pressed together.

“What the hell happened?”

Zach cranes his head around and starts laughing. “We broke your bed.”

“What?”

Chris props himself up on his elbows and sees that the wooden sideboard is cracked clean in half and one leg of the frame is toppled over on the floor, broken from the rest of the footboard. The headboard is split and collapsed. The mattress had slid out from the remains of the wooden frame and is sitting diagonally in the air, one edge on the floor. One of the pillows lays at his foot. It looked like a giant sat on and crushed his bed.

“How did...?”

Chris is still trying to figure out the physics of how they fucked his bed in half and doesn’t notice as Zach scrambles to straddle him. He jumps when he feels Zach’s hand stroking him, trying to get him hard again.

“Priorities, Christopher.”

He whispers a few filthy things in Chris’ ear while he’s pinning him to the floor, his knees on either side of Chris’ chest.

“I’m going to ride you so hard, I’ll break you in half, too.”

Chris can’t help but laugh as Zach slowly sinks down on him, wiggling his ass until he’s fully impaled on Chris’ cock. Bending his knees, Chris plants his feet on the floor, helping to thrust up as Zach bounces on him. He feels Zach’s fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders.

“Can you touch yourself? I want to see you,” Chris pants.

Sitting back, Zach reaches between them and begins to stroke himself. Zach stops the erratic movements of his hips to let Chris hold his waist and fuck into him.

“You want to come on me?”

“Fuck, yes.” Zach’s eyes roll back to the back of his head.

Something in Chris’ belly tightens as he watches Zach. He begins to gasp lungfuls of air as the feeling builds. Zach lets go of his own cock and resumes his enthusiastic riding.

“Let go for me, Chris.”

His hips snap up twice more into Zach’s warmth before he’s coming hard, gripping Zach’s sides and cursing. When he opens his eyes, Zach’s watching him, breathing deeply.

“Come on,” Chris says quietly, letting a hand fall to Zach’s hips while the other reaches for his erection. “You want to feel me inside you when you come?”

Zach nods and covers Chris hand with his. They’re jerking him quickly, and even though it’s too sensitive, Chris keeps his cock buried in Zach, keeps them connected as the first spasm in Zach’s abdomen flutter through him.

“So close, Zach, come on,” Chris whispers.

He presses his hips up and closer, his eyes flickers between Zach’s face and the red, swollen length they’re both pumping. Chris can feel a pooling wetness between them. He grins up at Zach.

“I think... I think I'm leaking out of you.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Zach hisses. Throwing his head back, he reaches a hand behind him to dig his fingers into Chris’ leg.

Chris grimaces as Zach clenches around him and shoots over his chest. He lets go of Zach’s cock to let him finish himself off, and runs his finger through the mess of sweat and come on his skin.

Zach falls forward and Chris wraps his arms around him. Minutes pass and Chris softens and slides out of Zach. Eventually, they get up, legs shaky and thighs wet, and glance over at the bed.

“We broke your bed,” Zach comments.

Chris shrugs. “It’s kind of hot.”

“I’m sorry I got mad at you about the tuna.” His voice is soft and remorseful. “I would’ve never forgiven myself if you left me because of a can of tuna.”

“It wasn’t really about the tuna.”

“I know. It was about me being self-righteous.”

Chris nods. Zach reaches for his hand and leads them to the bathroom.

“When Noah was a puppy, I fed him some dog food that made him really sick.” He flicks the light on and opens the linen drawer to take out a small towel. “I had to take him to the vet and leave him there overnight. I thought I was the worse pet parent in the world and I promised that I’d let anything like that happen again.”

Looking at Zach’s reflection in the mirror as he wets a washcloth in the sink, Chris swallows hard.

“Zach, I had no idea. I would never--”

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” he interrupts. “You were doing something that you thought was harmless. I’m sorry I overreacted and said stuff I didn’t mean.”

He hands Chris the washcloth. Chris takes it and begins to gently wipe down Zach’s backside.

“So we’re good?”

With a small smile, Zach nods. “Yeah, we’re good. Except you need a new bed.”

Chris chuckles. “Well, ultimately, that’s Harold’s fault.”

“Yeah, let’s blame that one on Harold.”


End file.
